


Seasons of Strife

by IvoryAthena



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Crack, Gen, Men of Letters, crowley likes musical theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:16:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvoryAthena/pseuds/IvoryAthena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley has to pass the time in the bunker somehow. Kevin uses it to figure out how to get information from him. </p>
<p>Or, Crowley sings along to Rent and Kevin wants to watch him cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seasons of Strife

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: What Crowley does in his time chained up in the MOL chamber. 
> 
> I figured that Crowley would be a big musical theatre buff.

The first time it had happened, Sam thought that he’d been hearing things. But this time, he was sure.

“Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes…”

Yep, definitely sure.

“Five hundred, twenty five thousand, moments so dear…”

Crowley was singing in their sex torture dungeon - Sam quickly shook his head at the thought - ever since Kevin had mentioned sex torture dungeon, that’s what he had been inadvertently referring to it as in his brain. Damn that kid and his teenaged, hormone-driven trains of thought.

But that was beside the point.

Crowley was singing in their dungeon.

Singing show tunes in their _demon_ torture dungeon.

Sam craned his head from the spot at his desk to see if he could hear anything more.

“In inches, in miles, in laughter, in _strife_ ,” continued the singing, with a particular punch on the last word. Sam laughed. He really couldn’t blame the poor guy. Not that Sam had a habit of sympathising with the King of Hell, but he could see why he’d view the current situation of chains and devil’s traps and enchanted shackles as a matter of strife.

While Sam was craning his neck, Kevin poked his head around the corner into the study.

“Are you hearing this?” Kevin asked.

Sam relaxed into his chair and nodded, chuckling again.

“Yep,” he said. “Crowley sings show tunes. Who knew?”

“Crowley sings _Rent_ , specifically,” Kevin corrected. “Which means that he has probably sat through and watched the whole thing at some point. Man, I bet you any money he teared up when Angel died.”

“Who’s talking about angels dying?” asked Dean as he wandered into the room after Kevin.

“No, _Angel_ dying,” Kevin corrected. “The drag queen from Rent. Oh god, I’m getting emotional just thinking about it.” Kevin fanned his face, pretending to try and save himself from fake tears.

Sam laughed, then his face fell.

“Angel dies?” he asked, voice tentative.

“How did you know Rent and not know this?” Kevin asked, exasperated.

“I started watching the movie once when it was on cable and I fell asleep during the stripper scene.”

“Dude, you fell asleep during strippers?” Dean decided this was the moment to join the conversation. “Man, it’s like we’re not even fucking related.”  
  
“Seasons of LOOOOVE,” came crooning from the basement, the last word loud and incredibly off key. If there had been any doubt that Crowley knew they were listening to him, it was gone now.

Kevin sighed.

“So, I take it there hasn’t been any progress in getting information from our good old King of Hell, hey?” he asked.

“Nada,” Sam replied.

“We just can’t seem to figure out what we could do to motivate the guy, demon, king, whatever,” Dean added.

Kevin nodded, considering the statement. Then his eyes lit up and a smirk spread across his face.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said, quickly exiting the room.

Dean took a seat across from Sam. He looked over, mouth open to start a statement when they heard a loud thumping noise almost immediately followed by the visual of Kevin running past the door, laptop and speakers in hand.

“Should we -” Dean started, but Sam held up a hand.

“Just listen.”

The two sat in silence, trying to figure out the goings on of the se- _demon_ torture dungeon.

“Kevin,” they heard in Crowley’s loud, irritated tone, “don’t you fucking dare put that thing on. Don’t you -”

A piano progression seemed to cut off the train of thought, because there was temporary silence from the demon.

Temporary being the key word.

Kevin showed up back in the study moments later, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Kevin, what did you -?” Sam started, but Kevin held up a hand. Sam looked over at Dean, who had a smug grin on his face.

“Just wait for it…” Kevin said, maintaining his hand’s position in the air.

“FUCK.” A loud cry came from the same place as the current music. Strangely to Sam and Dean, it sounded more sad than pained. The two looked to Kevin for an explanation.

“I figured we might be able to get something out of him if he’s emotionally vulnerable,” Kevin said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “So I decided to make him rewatch the whole of Rent, complete with surround sound.” He paused. “You can tell me I’m a genius anytime.”

“Yeah Kev, for some reason, I don’t think that’s going to work,” said Dean, standing to go.

“Just you wait.”

****  
  
Almost two hours later, the three of them found themselves sitting back at the same table. They were munching on some popcorn as they all poured over different books from the Men of Letters’ library when the silence was broken.

“NO ANGEL WHY OH GOD YOU JUST LOVED EVERYONE SO MUCH NO WHY,” was quickly followed by a string of incredibly loud, obnoxious sobs.

Kevin smirked at the brothers across from him.   
  
“Told ya.”

“I’ve got to see this ending,” said Sam.

  
  
  
  



End file.
